


The Things We Lost

by yuuago



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Year 0 (Stand Still Stay Silent)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/pseuds/yuuago
Summary: He turns the phone on every morning, just long enough to send a text.





	The Things We Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This one was originally in response to a prompt, but I can't for the life of me remember what the prompt was.  
> Title comes from the Bastille song by the same name.
> 
> I'd like to remind that typically my writing is posted over at [my fic archive](http://roesslyng.dreamwidth.org/) on Dreamwidth first, and a lot of it doesn't get crossposted at all.  
> Thanks for reading!

"We'll come and pick you up, honey."

"No!" The word came out too quickly. Hannu clenched his teeth, breathed, then spoke again. "No. I – Mom, no. I'll be fine. We'll both be fine."

"But sweetie, what if you get sick? The things I've been hearing –"

"I won't get sick. And Ville won't either."

"But –"

"Look, if we have problems, I'll just call Mister Kuikka, okay?"

There was a long pause as she considered it. Hannu waited.

His mother sighed. "...Okay. As long as you promise to call Jouko if you have any trouble."

Hannu rolled his eyes. "I promise. We'll be okay over here. Besides, you shouldn't go anywhere, anyway. They're saying on the news that everybody should stay home."

Eventually, he managed to get her off the phone. Eventually. After five or six excuses, and four promises that he would call the Kuikkas if anything happened.

Hannu swore and shoved the phone into his pocket. Then, after a second, he pulled it out again, and turned it off. Just for a little while, he told himself. Just so we can get this done without anybody bothering us.

Ville had been listening the whole time. He was waiting, standing next to the closet, a half-packed tub of emergency supplies at his feet. "Are you sure about this?" he said, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah. Don't worry about it." Hannu glanced at him, then turned his attention to the list. "Did you find the extra batteries?"

"Um..."

"Never mind, they're over here." He could feel eyes on him. He didn't need to turn his head to know that Ville was watching him. "Look, they're better off staying where they are."

"And we're better off leaving?"

"Exactly."

Hannu heard a sigh. This wasn't the first time they'd talked this over, had this argument. He listened, waiting. But Ville didn't say anything else.

Good, he thought as he gathered up their things. Duct tape. Matches. Batteries. Flashlight. Radio.

Good.

* * *

It took a while, but they got everything together. The gear. The extra food. The – well. Everything else. As he looked through the boxes and plastic storage tubs, Hannu frowned. When it was packed up like that, it looked like so much less than they would need. But maybe it would be enough. It would have to be.

It wasn't like they would have any opportunity to pick up anything else. Not for a while, anyway.

As he locked the door, Hannu tried not to wonder when he'd next see his house again. Or if he ever would.

They hauled everything down to the shore, where Old Pekka's boat sat waiting. It wasn't the first time that Hannu had "borrowed" it, but this time, it took some convincing to get Ville to go along with the plan.

"Hannu, are you sure this is okay? I mean –"

"Well, he never minded when we used it before."

"Yeah, but you said you weren't sure when we were coming back –"

"I asked him about it," Hannu lied. "He said it was all right with him."

"...Okay."

Either Ville didn't catch the lie, or he decided not to argue anyway. Either way, Hannu thought, it didn't matter. He was just glad not to have to go over it again.

They packed everything up. Then they pushed off.

The shore was silent and empty. So was the water. With the news emphasizing that people should stay indoors and limit their contact with others, most people were dutifully staying home – or leaving the area, if they could. They glided silently, slipping easily along the lake's surface.

Hannu glanced up at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain again. He frowned and put the hood on his jacket up.

The phone was a thin weight in his pocket. He had only turned it back on for a while before leaving. Just long enough to charge it and send a text. Nothing more.

_We're doing a lot of cleaning. I might not answer calls. We're just busy. Don't come over here._

Then he turned it off again. His mom would fall for it, he was sure.

Hannu ran his thumb along the phone's case. Looked out at the black, scattered lumps of islands rising up from the water.

Why had he bothered to take it with him?

* * *

It kept raining.

Hannu turned the phone on once every morning. Just long enough to send a text. Sometimes more than one.

_We're doing fine. Don't worry._

_Everything is okay here. Stay where you are._

_We're okay._

_We're both fine. Don't worry._

Then he turned it off.

It was hard to ignore the masses of texts and notifications for missed calls. But he turned it off. Put it away again, stuffing it in the plastic tub with the extra batteries and the first-aid kit and the matches. Keep it safe. Keep it dry.

"How long will the charge last?" Ville asked on the third morning.

Hannu shrugged. "Dunno'. I guess we'll find out."

Ville didn't ask about it again after that.

They made their camp. Put everything together. Set up their tent where it would stay as dry as possible. At first, it wasn't so bad, even with the constant drizzle. But after a while, it started to wear on both of them.

Restless, they explored the island from one end to another. It was best, they decided, to be sure where everything was – even if "everything" wasn't much. Trees and rocks and dirt, and a shoreline surrounded by their improvised fencing and barricades. That was all.

And every morning, he turned on the phone, and sent a text.

On the fifth morning, Hannu stepped outside. Turned on the phone. The ringtone blared sharp in the thin, misty light.

He stared at the phone for a moment. Then he answered it.

"Hi, mom."

"Hi, sweetie. Are you all right?"

Hannu breathed in the cold, damp air. Looked out across the lake. "We're okay, I guess."

"We were thinking about coming to see you."

Oh no. "You don't –"

"Don't worry, honey. Your father isn't feeling well, so we're staying home."

There was a weird note in her voice. She sounded strained and tired. "Oh." Hannu shifted from one foot to the other, wondering what to say. His mind raced. Did she mean –

"It's just a bit of fever, dear. Don't worry."

"I see."

"They're telling everyone to stay off of the roads, anyway. I'm not sure if they're even letting anyone on the highways, except for emergency vehicles. For safety, you know. I'm sure you heard all of it on the radio. Isn't it awful? It'll be so nice when this all blows over. We'll come to see you when things are a little bit more normal, and when everyone is feeling better. Won't that be nice? I'll bring those cookies you and Ville like so much."

"Great." His mouth felt dry. "That's... great. Uh. Look, I have to go – my phone's almost out of charge –"

"Why don't you plug it in?"

"I'll do that. I just lost my charger somewhere. Ville's helping me look for it."

"Well, okay." His mother laughed. "Call me when you find it, dear."

"...Sure. Right."

He heard her draw in a long breath. More like a sigh. "Remember, we love you."

"I know."

Hannu hung up. Stared out across the lake, with its cold black misty water as smooth as the surface of a mirror, and its quiet shore with too many dark and empty windows.

Then he turned the phone off and put it in his pocket.

He didn't know if he would turn it on again.


End file.
